


Kiss Me

by Helianthus21



Series: tumblr ficlets [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-14 15:06:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18478714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helianthus21/pseuds/Helianthus21
Summary: “You don’t need to do that,” he says. “To be close to me.”





	Kiss Me

**Author's Note:**

> prompt was: "Kiss me"

Home, sweet home, Dean thinks as they step into the shabby motel room of the week. It may not be the most comfortable – or the most sanitary for that matter judging by the suspicious dark stains on the ceiling – but at least it offers some shelter and warmth after that bitch of a hunt they just wrapped up. If that’s all Dean gets, he’ll take it.

Heaving a groan, Dean dumps his duffel bag at the foot of the bed and sags as an exhausted lump onto the mattress. Which turns out to be a mistake. Because his little brother takes that moment of inattention as his chance to snatch the first turn at the shower.

“Bitch,” Dean calls at the closed bathroom door, and the obligatory “Jerk,” follows promptly.

His head falls back on the bed, and he wallows a little in his cranky mood. For a moment, he lets himself dream of the Bunker, of burying himself in the soft memory-foam in his very own room. It’ll be a while before they’re getting back home.

A hand on his forehead rips Dean out of his thoughts, and he gives a start, hand already flying to the knife in his boot before he realizes who the foreign hand is attached to.

Cas looks back at him sheepishly.

And then Dean’s feeling it. That all-consuming warmth coursing through his body at Cas’ touch. The gash on his cheek closes, his sprained wrist stops being a problem and he hadn’t even noticed how splitting his headache was until Cas took it from him.

Savoring the sensation, Dean’s eyelids flutter close and a contented sigh escapes his lungs before he can stop it.  
It’s a short-lived moment of happiness, however, because once he’s healed, Cas moves to retrieve his hand, if reluctantly.

Dean doesn’t let him. Sitting up again, his own hand shoots out and snatches Cas by the wrist, and he holds him there, inside their little bubble of personal space.

“You don’t need to do that,” Dean says.

That trademark frown appears on Cas’ face as if on cue. “You were injured.”

But Dean shakes his head calmly. “You don’t need to do that,” he says. “To be close to me.”

Cas’ eyes become big and round and so very, very blue. He’s Dean’s own personal deer in the headlights, but he won’t flit away because Dean’s still got a firm grip around his wrist.

“I don’t-” Cas starts. Dude’s always been a crappy liar.

Years of friendship, of fighting, of losing and finding each other again has taught Dean one thing: With Cas, you have to be straightforward or not at all. And Dean’s no fool. He chooses option number one.

Giving Cas’ wrist a gentle tug, he guides Cas closer until he’s bracketed by Dean’s thighs.

This way, Dean needs to tilt his head, needs to look up to see Cas in the eyes and oh, the irony. Even with the advantage of being physically taller, it’s always felt like this between Dean and Cas: Dean craning his neck to get a glimpse of this elusive, unfathomable creature that is his best friend.

Dean licks his lips. He puts all his cards on the table at once. “Kiss me,” he whispers.

Instantly, Cas’ gaze flits down to Dean’s lips. The blue of his eyes turns a darker shade and that’s how Dean knows he has him.

Cas has never had a problem with obeying orders he agrees with, Dean guesses.  
Because after a brief moment of hesitation, he leans down – slowly, to give Dean time to change his mind maybe – and bridges that infuriating, unnecessary gap between them.

His lips are warm against Dean’s, for the second the kiss lasts. It’s as sweet as it is fleeting. Far too soon, Cas withdraws.  
He doesn’t get very far, though, because Dean’s clever hand has sneaked around Cas’ neck, fingers playing with Cas’ hair.

“Dean.” The word leaves Cas’ mouth like a beg, or a prayer maybe.

It doesn’t take long for Dean to realize how strategically positioned his hand is, for more than just to hold Cas there.

So Dean pulls.

And amazingly, Cas follows.

The second kiss is much more satisfying. As is their third. And their fourth.

Absently, Dean tries to figure out how much time they have left before Sam’s finished showering.


End file.
